Humanity's Finest
by everyone'ssister
Summary: Tag for 11.22 Their master plan having failed, the Winchester boys will scramble to make one last stand...who will pay the price this time?
TAG for 11.22 Their master plan having failed, the Winchester boys will scramble to make one last stand...who will pay the price this time?

TAG FOR 11.22 WE HAPPY FEW

HUMANITY'S FINEST

Sam found himself in much the same spot as he had been just a few hours ago. Standing in front of a closed door in the bunker beating on it, hoping beyond hopes for an answer. But this time it wasn't his own door with a moody arch angel behind it. It was Dean's door...and there was no booming rock song...just a deafening silence that scared Sam Winchester.

The mission to cage Amara had been a devastating failure. And Sam had pulled one over his older brother, well, tried to anyway. Dean had been stretched to his limits continually the last few days and now Sam can't help but feel he was about to snap. Cas was back, that much Sam was thankful for...but he was scared now that it was done the vivacity and determination would abandon his brother.

He could feel the tension and exhaustion Amara's pain and presence had left Dean with. He didn't know the intensity of their connection, but he did know he'd never seen his brother so in tune with anyone like that before that wasn't himself.

He'd watched his brother lean over Cas, hug him tight when he saw those blue eyes sparkling up at him with a confusion and hero-worship only Cas could portray so sincerely. He'd watched Dean Winchester, the warrior, the unbeliever, take his creator by the shoulders and pull him upright, let Chuck lean against his strength.

He'd watched his older brother, with the haunted look in his eyes, pack up their battered forces into the impala and drive them back home to the bunker. Find that Amara had even been there, find she had desecrated their home with her dark presence and power.

Sam's heart had stuttered when their eyes met. He was still uncertain about Dean's true feelings regarding the Mark of Cain. All he saw reflected in those beautiful green eyes was sadness, defeat...resignation. Sam knew that look, the look of Dean Winchester knowing when the right thing must be done.

He knows the slump of those shoulders, he feels the heaviness of the burden his brother carries. Dean feels her darkness, her hate...he feels her life and passion...and she must be killed, destroyed, wiped away forever and ever. Something else Dean must deny and give away for the sake of humanity and this world.

Yet again, something he must sacrifice.

Sam knows...knows how this ends...with one of them dead and cold and bloody. And he had his shot.

Dean will step up to the plate now, he'll lay all his cards on the table, his heart, soul, his life. And he'll succeed because nothing stops Dean Winchester when his whole heart and soul is in whatever he puts his hands to. So Sam presses his forehead to the door and knocks again while trying to bury the panic at the thoughts of what his brother is most definitely planing.

...

Amara's pain had been his. Dean was all to familiar with the feelings of abandonment and betrayal, but feeling them again, knowing SHE was feeling that was excruciating. He had been in her shoes all those years ago, when Sam had turned his back on him, take your pick of which time, he knew the anger...the sorrow.

God, how the sorrow just swallowed and choked his soul.

But he felt her hate. And Dean had never hated Sam. Could never hate Sammy.

He felt her calling out to him the whole time, whispering promises of an eternity free of this pain, of just him and her. Safe, quiet...loyal companionship. But he knew there was no promise of love, there was no chance at having with her and her revised world what he had now. He'd bear the stain of billions' blood on his own soul and hands forever. And that was not Dean Winchester.

His heart ached to weep as he realized it was Cas looking up at him wonderingly...finally. But there was no time.

His small group of mismatched warriors seemed rather stunned so he knelt beside God, beside his maker, the God that had stood before him in glory and he'd still refused to kneel. He gathered him up, he drove him safe home in his baby. He saw Rowena safely in the kitchen making tea, Cas flipping absently through books as was his want...his brother watched him knowingly.

Sam.

Stupid son of a bitch.

Dean's too exhausted to be mad about the mark of Cain, in fact he's too exhausted to be anything...he turns on his heel and shuts the door of his room securely behind him.

He could feel the remnants of her power within the bunker walls. He could feel the warmer tendrils of soft darkness she's left here in his very own room. He finds the chest left propped open, the picture of he and his mother left there, unharmed, but with her 'ness' left on it.

He feels sick, takes it up in his hands, uses his t-shirt to wipe it clean...as if he can be rid of her. He can't, he's tried. Cas is back sure, but Chuck is dying...the world is heading for destruction and it all comes down to him.

He, who sits in his room cradling the photograph of his dead mother. This miserable excuse for a human is its only hope.

He can't see how he's the brightest light. How he's the very essence of what it means to be human. To be alive, to love, to believe what you choose...to do the right thing...not because its your job, or because it's how you're wired...but because you know deep in your soul, in your heart, in your gut that it's the right thing to do. Having the free will to do the right thing or turn your back and do the wrong thing, but still try your best; that was what it meant to be human.

Dean didn't realize he was the shining example of this...he didn't realize he was the best of the best...he was God's creation excelling.

He didn't understand that was why Amara wanted him. She was obsessed by him, his life, his body, his warmth...the way she reacted to him...but most of all he was the, most wonderful, beautiful, mesmerizing thing her brother had ever made and she wanted him. Before she destroyed earth and humanity she wanted to keep something to remind of her of the feelings and emotions and glories of the earth. She wanted the best, she wants Dean.

Dean knows as he places the picture back in the chest and shuts the lid that she's got her hooks into him, and good. He knows he won't be able to deny her any longer...she must be dealt with and now. He knows now, just like God had told him...humanity must step up.

He must step up.

He sits on the lid of the chest, shoulders slumped...defeated. Who had he been kidding? He knew how this ended...with at least one Winchester screwed. Most typically him.

Better him, better him than Sam.

He would use Amara's attraction to him against her, he'd be her weakness, end her...hopefully.

But he wasn't ready yet, damnit! He'd just told her that! He wasn't ready to leave this hardass old world, and Baby, and bitchy Sam, and confused, naive Cas. He sighs, hands running over the back of his neck, through his hair, over his face. He lets his eyes shut...closes it all out for a moment, hides in his mind, in his room, sighs in relief as he lets his muscles finally relax fully.

He's gearing himself up for the next very busy, stressful...last hours.

He figures the banging on the door is probably Sam. He'd seen the fear and knowing in his little brother's eyes, Sam had his chance...now it was Dean's turn. And Dean wasn't about to argue about it with him. He just wasn't. Was too tired, too emotionally shot. No arguing. And please to 'dying god' no tears Sammy. I cannot take tears today, he thinks, as he hears the change come into his brother's knock and voice, more pleading.

Knows Sam is close to the breaking point too, knows this day has been shit, for everyone...not just him. But Dean still has no words.

He's succeeded. All he wanted was to save Cas, it had been his mission. He'd thought in order to get Cas back they needed to defeat Amara but Cas was in the library, safe...and here. For now Dean couldn't take anything else on his plate, just for ten minutes, let him glory in the fact Cas was safe and back.

...

Sam frowns at the closed door as if that helps. The beers he had brought with him now perspiring drops of water, they'd be warm by the time he got Dean to open the door.

He knocks again. "Dean? I know you're in there, I'm coming in."

He awaits a reaction, sighing when only more silence lights upon his ear. "You're scaring me, Dean, I'm coming in, I'm serious."

He slowly turns the handle, giving Dean the opportunity to stop him, there's no sound, no movement within the room. Sam slips in and shuts the door behind him. He finds his brother seated on the chest at the foot of his bed, hands clasped between his legs, an energy buzzing around him, even through the generally dejected picture he's making.

He sighs at the sight of those broad shoulders slumped forward and simply walks forward, "Hey," he says, handing the beer over to Dean's waiting hand as he sits beside him. He watches his big brother's face carefully, trying to clue in to every little thing going on in his brother's mind.

Dean takes a large drag of the beer and sighs a little. There's no turning back now. He acknowledges Sam, turning towards him, lighting the sad eyes of a much older man on him. His lips turn up however, his laugh lines showing...eyes glisten in the lights through the sadness and years.

Not the reaction Sam was expecting, he watches everything he knows about his brother wash over his countenance in less then two seconds. It's gone in a flash. Dean's drinking from his beer bottle again, licking the excess of it off his lips. Sighing, and then looking over at Sam resignedly.

"You've got a plan?" His little brother asks.

Dean shrugs, "There's gotta be another way, it almost worked, she's weak. Lucifer was right, her attraction to me is a weakness; we can use it against her."

Sam shakes his head, "We've already done that once, she's not going to trust you completely again."

Dean shrugs again, "We just came back from a lost battle Sam, the battle in which we placed every single one of our cards on the table...I think we both know, there's no real win for us here, just hopefully for the world, for you, and Cas."

Sam's shoulders slump forward. The transition is seamless, they don't even realize they're doing it. Dean straightens, his eyes taking on a stronger, compassionate look. He bumps shoulders with Sam.

"Aw c'mon Sammy," he says, a fond smile shaping his lips. "We knew this wouldn't end pretty for us, always knew that...benefit of being a Winchester."

"It's not fair." Sam says tensely.

Dean raises his eyebrows at that, "I'm sorry, I didn't notice we went back to you being a two year old."

Sam shoots him a bitch face.

Dean laughs humorlessly, "Reconciled myself to the fact that the chips were permanently down when it came to us a long time ago, okay little brother? And if you haven't done the same then you are in for one hell of an ugly reality check."

He shakes his head, "There is no karma, there is no luck, or destiny, or fate, or crap...there is just good and evil, light and dark...and they try to screw each other over. That's all there is. And you gotta fight, fight for what's yours. So we gotta fight for this world, for humanity...and if that means we..." (Dean would rather bite off his tongue than say the hated word, rather than acknowledge that he and Sam actually did it.)

"...if that means we sacrifice, then so be it." He finishes looking his brother right in the eyes, and Sam feels his conviction, knows he's right.

Sam swallows and nods, swiping hair behind his ear, as he looks down, swallowing thickly. Dean nods back silently, takes another swig of beer. He feels the tension in his baby brother, knows his emotions are conflicting in him...he feels like maybe Dean is giving up a little too easily, but knows Amara must be taken care of once and for all.

"It's crap, I know it." Interpreting his baby brother perfectly, he shakes his head hopelessly, "But what do you wanna do, Sam? What else is there to do? I would love for there to be another option. I don't specifically want to die."

And there it was. What made this time around so much more worse. Dean didn't want to go. He loved to live, he loved his life. He loved hunting, and the bunker, and Baby, and Sam, and Cas, and food, and fine whiskey, and cheap beer...the list could go on and on.

The pain of it wrapped itself all the way around Sam's heart, squeezed it till it felt as though his insides were trying to escape through his throat. He held his breath for a moment to keep the sob in, to keep from breaking down, to try hide from it all forever here in Dean's room. That's not what Dean needed right now. He needed his brother, his hunting partner, the strong man Sam Winchester was.

"Okay," he sighs at last, and he feels Dean relax beside him. "What are we gonna do then?"

Dean stands smiling, more hope reflecting in his eye than before now that he saw Sam's faith in him.

"We're gonna figure out a way for the light to screw the darkness over."

Sam smirks at that and follows his brother with an aching heart out the door and down the hallway, back into the fray, into the battle. Towards the glorious, bloody end. It seems selfish to Sam for one man to die for all the world just because he's better than anyone else...but others would say, better one man sacrifice than many. Life and death. Sacrifice, selfishness...call it what you want.

The earth will be saved. Even if it means sacrificing humanity's finest.

the end.

Thank you for reading! If you liked...PLEASE REVIEW!

Come over and see me on Twitter Sister2Every1, or Instagram at everyone'ssister!


End file.
